Every essay — page 24
Pitch and tuning Intervals and chords Scales and modes Harmony and voice leading Rhythm and metre Timbre and acoustics Perception and the listener Instruments and their design Form and structure Series Objects Sounds Search
Instruments and their design
Where the sound came from before any of the above. A stopped tube has only odd partials, a hammer at one seventh silences the seventh, and a bass string is wound because a plain one would be longer than the room.
A bar's partials are the odd numbers, squared
A string's wave equation is second order in space and a bar's is fourth, so a string's frequencies go as its wavenumbers and a bar's go as their squares. Both objects fit a nearly arithmetic sequence of wavenumbers between their ends; squaring one is the whole of why a marimba key has no note in it. The ratios are 1 : 2.756 : 5.404 : 8.933, which are the odd squares over nine, uniformly 12.9 cents flat, and the 12.9 cents is one root that refused to be 3π/2.
One cut cannot place two partials
An arch cut into a bar's underside is one knob, and a maker aims it at two targets. Swept across every arch length, the path it traces through the plane of the second and third partials passes through the xylophone's 3 and 6 — dead through it, within a tenth of a cent at the natural arch length — and under the marimba's 4 and 10 by between 149 and 326 cents. Hitting one target means missing the other, and that is why a marimba bar's underside is not a simple arch.
The tube shuts on the partial the arch placed
A stopped tube tuned to a bar's fundamental resonates at every odd multiple of it and presents a rigid lid — an infinite input impedance — at every even one. A xylophone's arch puts its second partial on 3, which is a resonance, and the tube passes it within five decibels. A marimba's puts it on 4, which is an antiresonance, and the tube takes it thirty-eight decibels down. Same tube, opposite answers, and the difference is parity.
The four ways a marimba loses what its arch placed
The centre of a bar is a node of every even mode by symmetry, so a stroke there gives the second partial exactly nothing and a mallet's width cannot recover it; five millimetres off centre returns 14 per cent. Add the yarn mallet's 3-millisecond contact, the tube's rigid lid and a decay four times faster than the fundamental's, and four independent mechanisms take the tuned partial 80 decibels below it. On a xylophone the same four come to 24.
The partial that gets louder as it goes sharp
Eleven earlier essays sweep a set of partials and hold their amplitudes still, and a real tract does not move with the fundamental. Put the formant account and the sweeping account together and every partial acquires an amplitude modulation at the vibrato rate: 0.07 decibels on the fundamental and 8.6 on the twelfth partial of the same note. They are in phase below a formant and anti-phase above one — not ninety degrees apart — and the whole note swings 0.82 decibels, because they cancel.
The rate that does not rise with the partial
Twelve earlier essays give every vibrato the same six hertz, and the measured spread is 5.5 to 7.5. Putting the two fluctuations a choir contains on one axis shows why the rate matters: the beating between mistuned voices rises with the partial and leaves the range a listener follows as fluctuation at 1,217 hertz, while the vibrato's own modulation is six hertz at every partial. Above that frequency a section fluctuates by vibrato alone — and if every singer had the same rate, it would barely fluctuate at all.
Which notes go brassy first
Wave steepening manufactures partials at exact integer multiples of the note being played. A brass instrument's resonances are not at integer multiples of anything, and twelve earlier essays have measured how far off they are without ever putting the two on one axis. Put them there and a manufactured partial never lands on a peak — never once, at any note, by a miss that is the same number of hertz every time. So the alignment cannot be what decides which notes blare, and the thing that does turns out to be the bell.
The throat that decides both
Eight earlier essays draw a tube eleven millimetres across and none of them draws another. Opened from six millimetres to twenty-two, it does exactly what was predicted to the loss in the walls — and it moves the radiation loss three times further, in the opposite direction, and monotonically, which the bell does not. So the two ends of a brass instrument do not divide the two losses between them. One end owns one loss and both ends own the other.
The interval between two quills
Two jacks on one key are voiced separately and do not let go at the same instant. That interval turns each partial of the later pluck through an angle proportional to its number — so it leaves the fundamental alone and inverts the twentieth partial, and the holes the pair digs for itself vanish at a hundredth of a period. What a regulator can tolerate turns out to be one fixed fraction of a period at every pitch, which on a five-octave instrument is a factor of sixteen in milliseconds.
A bar and its pipe are one object
Three earlier essays treat a marimba's resonator as a filter the bar's output passes through, and both of them said in their own caveats that the coupling was not modelled. It is here, and the debt was right: the coupling is 1.67 times the threshold at which the pair acquires two frequencies instead of two decay rates, so the tube is not downstream of anything. Every consequence of that is smaller than the peaks it would have to be seen between.
Where a woodwind actually sounds from
Every number so far is read at the mouthpiece, and the corner's whole musical meaning is at the other end. Run the same solver forwards and it gives the flow leaving every hole — from which a clarinet's radiating aperture turns out to be a function of fingering and of frequency, but not the way it was predicted to: the fingering sets how far the aperture opens, almost exactly to the number of open holes, and barely moves the frequency at which it does.
An orchestrator doubles a line, not a chord
Three earlier essays made the objective a functional over a passage and a later one went back to holding one chord still. Put the doubling back into time and the retreat turns out to have been cheap: one arrangement held down a five-chord phrase is that phrase's own best answer at four of its five chords and costs 2.4 per cent of the range the choice spans — while the forward mask named earlier as the third temporal constant reaches for twenty milliseconds rather than two hundred, and cannot change the answer at any pace at all.
The second row of resonators keeps the neighbours out of the attack
A marimba bar reaches the mouth of the tube under the next bar at a fifth of what it puts on its own, and the next bar is tuned a semitone away. Solved as a row of coupled pairs, the neighbour's pitch speaks in every attack for about a beat and a half and is then handed to its own bar, which cannot radiate it. Laying the accidentals out in a second bank halves that for eight notes of the twelve, and leaves C, E, F and B exactly where they were.
A cone radiates like a cylinder only if its holes grow
The prediction was that a conical woodwind radiates from fewer of its holes than a clarinet, because a hole near the wide end of a cone sits on a tube that is already easy to push air along, and so pulls less of the passing flow out. The mechanism is right and the conclusion is wrong for the instruments that exist. With holes that grow with the bore, as an oboe's and a saxophone's do, a cone opens its aperture as far as a cylinder up to six open holes and falls short above that by a hole or two. Only a cone whose holes are all one size tops out far below — near seven apertures with thirteen open. What a cone really changes is where and how much: its aperture opens nearly a major third lower, its bell carries twice the share, and it gets out at best under half of what reaches it, where the clarinet gets out seven tenths.
A leadpipe tunes the series, and its average does not
Every trumpet drawn in the essays before this one runs at full bore from the mouthpiece to the flare, and no trumpet does. Put a real taper in front of it and the wall losses it was predicted to cost come to a fraction of a per cent. What it does instead is pull the resonances onto a harmonic series, halving their average mistuning, while a cylinder of the same mean bore makes them worse.
A vibrato hides a choir's tuning above four hundred hertz
Thirteen essays drew a vibrato that had always been running; a real one grows out of a straight tone over the first quarter-second of a note. Counting the beats a listener can follow between two voices of a section shows what that front edge is worth. A vibrato takes most of a section's countable beats away above about 400 hertz — seven in ten of them at the singer's formant — and adds some below. The straight start gives them back only while the vibrato is still growing, and in the band where a voice carries that is less than one beat.
A choir's vibratos must lock to two milliseconds
A vibrato hides a section's mistuning from a listener counting beats, and the obvious way it could stop hiding it is for the singers' vibratos to move together. They would have to move very nearly together. Half-entrained vibratos leave a section as hidden at the singer's formant as independent ones; locked to nine-tenths they expose three-quarters of what a straight section does; only past nineteen parts in twenty does the section's tuning show as if they sang straight. At six cycles a second that is two vibratos peaking within two milliseconds of each other — and the better a section is tuned, the tighter the lock has to be.
Singers who hear each other late lock their vibratos in opposition
A choir's vibratos give back the section's tuning at the singers' formant only if they are locked to within about two milliseconds. Singers who lock do it by hearing each other, and they hear each other late. Two vibratos pulled towards what each hears of the other settle near in step while the delay is under about forty milliseconds, and even then come within two milliseconds only if each singer corrects a phase error in about thirty. From forty to a hundred and twenty milliseconds late — a third to two-thirds of a vibrato cycle — they lock in opposition, peaks seventy to ninety milliseconds apart, and hide the section's tuning more completely than vibratos that never locked at all.
Sixteen singers cannot all oppose each other
Two singers who hear each other a third of a vibrato cycle late lock their vibratos in opposition and hide their tuning better than if they had not listened at all. Sixteen cannot do it, because no arrangement puts every one of them opposite every other. At the latencies where a pair opposes, a section of sixteen does not lock at all: each singer keeps a vibrato rate of its own, and a listener hears the section's tuning exactly as through independent vibratos. Outside that band the section locks in step and gives most of its tuning back. A section that listens to itself can expose its tuning or leave it as it was, but never hide it.
The venturi is heard by every resonance
The narrowing makers put just inside a trumpet's leadpipe was predicted to be invisible to the written middle and to act only at the top of the compass, because short tapers had acted only there. It is not a taper. To every resonance in the compass a venturi a few centimetres long is one lumped object, described by a single number — its length times its depth — and by where it sits. Four centimetres at a fifth of the radius moves the middle notes by up to eight and a half cents, raising some and lowering others, while the series as a whole stays as well tuned as before.
A row that hears its neighbours moves its tuning, it does not hide it
Sixteen singers who all hear each other alike cannot lock in opposition, because opposition between every pair is impossible. A row that hears mainly its neighbours has no such obstacle — opposition along a chain is consistent — and at the latencies that make a pair oppose, it half-alternates: neighbours opposite each other, every second singer nearly in step. That hides the tuning between neighbours as well as a duet hides it, and exposes it between every second singer more than independent voices would. Over the whole row the two cancel to the hundredth. With no latency, the same local hearing stops the row locking at all, and hides nearly half of what a whole-row lock would show.
Two strings undo what two quills were regulated for
A harpsichord's two eight-foot registers each pluck their own string of a unison, and the unison is never exact. Two cents apart, the second string's partials turn against the first's at a rate proportional to their number, so within a quarter of a second at C5 the pair has drifted past the regulation tolerance the jacks were voiced to, and through the rest of the note it passes again and again through every interval a regulator could have set. The pair's fixed spectrum becomes one that breathes, its own holes become flickers a few per cent of a cycle long, and averaged over the note the second register is worth a decibel and a half at the fundamental, not four.
A fast run is a crescendo nobody wrote
A wind note takes tens of milliseconds to build, and a fast run gives each note about sixty. The question sounds like whether a note can arrive at all, and the settling time makes it sound worse than it is, because a note cut off at nine tenths has lost under a decibel. What speed really costs is evenness: the settling time falls up the compass, so at sixteen notes a second a rising two-octave scale gains between two and four and a half decibels with no change in the player's breath. A repeated note, which keeps its resonance, loses only a quarter as much.
A vibraphone's valve is a door on the sound and a drain on the bar
A vibraphone's motor is usually described as a duty cycle: loud while the valve is open and quiet while it is shut, with a tremolo as deep as the gap between them. Put the tube's own time back and the description comes apart. The door and the drain obey different laws. A low note's tremolo is a third shallower than a high note's at the same speed, the note rings almost three times longer than with the valve left open and well beyond any mean of the two states, and the same stroke can land eight decibels apart according to where the motor happens to be.